City of Angels
by charmed-seconds
Summary: Chris has held onto the false notion that he wasn't scarred or still suffering. That by merely changing his name, he washed away years of pain; however, an untimely death forces his hand and makes him return home, and more importantly, forces him to look his abuser in the eye. But what happens when evidence comes up and his painful childhood isn't all that it seems?
1. Prologue

**Author's Note : **Hello. First off, thank you for clicking and deciding to read this. Second, if you've followed me before or read my earlier work, you might notice something familiar about this little fic. This is actually an AU/Rewrite of Pariah, the first installment of a three-part story line.

Many might wonder why I decided to bring this story back to life and to change key aspects of it. Mainly, it's because my writing style has changed and improved since the publication of Pariah a few years back, and, while planning Pariah and it's later stories, I actually had two plot lines that were firmly established. In the original Pariah series, I went down Path A. In this series, I decided to explore Path B.

Furthermore, this series will probably be a bit darker than the original series, hence why this is going to be rated M.

Updates might be a bit sporadic as I am working on another fic of mine, and also attempting to start publishing actual original work, so please bare that in mind while waiting for updates.

Well, without further ramblings from me, please enjoy this prologue and I hope that this series goes as well as the original did!

Thank you to all who read and I can't wait to read your reactions/reviews.

**Disclaimer : **I do not own Charmed or any of the songs used in this fictional piece of work. I do own all original characters, however, as they were created in my mind. All rights go their respected owners.

**Warnings : **Implied Prostitution (mentioned in Prologue and, possible, later dialogue), Explicit Talk of Child Abuse.

* * *

**Prologue**

_Est dolor et tristitia sentiamus intelligere vera beatitudo_

_(One must experience pain and sorrow to understand true happiness)_

He didn't want to do this.

The backpack felt heavier than it should and the guitar case in his hand felt as if it was filled with rocks. He forced his body to keep moving, his feet shuffling across the asphalt of I-80. In front of him, the Golden Gate Bridge was cast in bright lights and he just prayed that no one was nestled at its apex looking for him.

He didn't want to leave.

He wasn't sure if anyone has stumbled upon his empty bed, nor seen his empty dresser drawers. He prayed that it wouldn't be until the sun arose that his mother would see that he was gone.

He didn't want to hurt her.

He knew his mother would be frantic with worry. He couldn't leave a note as he had no way of disclosing the true reason why he left. It was in a fury of emotion and impulse that made him chuck clothes into his backpack and grab his guitar and leave.

He didn't want to hurt him.

His brother...he didn't want to think about him. They were close as brothers could be and yet far enough away that Wyatt never saw his inner turmoil. He preferred it that way. Wyatt should have a childhood. He knew Wyatt's adult life would be filled with expectations and duties and Wyatt needed those days of fun and love while he was young and carefree. Chris didn't need them. He lived without those days.

Wincing, he lifted his hand when headlights appeared on the road. He waved his hand sluggishly, the fresh bruised skin prickling and stabbing as he pulled at it. He nearly sobbed when the car slowed to a stop beside him. The window rolled down and a young woman sat in the drivers seat.

He watched as a gleeful smirk appeared on her ruby-painted lips, "Where ya headed?"

"Wherever you are," he replied. He had no destination in mind.

"L.A. good for ya?"

He nodded.

She smiled and leaned over to push the passenger side door open, "Then hop in."

He let out a soft breath and sat down in the car, the door squeaking loudly as he shut it. He flinched when he felt her soft breath on his neck. "Ya do realize there will be a price?"

He looked down at his hands. They were covered in grime and blood. Slowly, he nodded. It wouldn't be any worse than what he did to get the money to leave.

He merely closed his eyes when he felt her lips upon his skin and knew that in a matter of hours, he would be somewhere else and everything would be better.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

_De bonitate et amore plenum recipiet est semper. Interdum vitae dolor et tristitia implevit._

Darkness was never his friend. In his youth, it housed his pain and fear. Shadows contorted and attacked him. Green eyes, illuminated in fury, were the only things that shined in the black abyss. His screams were swallowed underneath the moonlight. The stars gave no comfort, only foretold a future of agony.

In adolescence, darkness was how he lived. Secrets became his life. The devil's drink became his comfort. Lust became his sin of choice. Lust and greed intertwined; but, the pain never went away. Black and blue were his most hated colors as they always decorated his skin.

On the cusp of adulthood, darkness became his escape. Darkness was the only way to taste freedom, and he took it by the arm and pulled. He lunged for the chance to be freed of darkness's hold.

Only darkness was a processive thing. Even now, years after the painful shackles of his childhood were torn away, they coil around him once the moon takes the sun's place in the sky. Dreams turn to terrors that leave him breathless and grasp onto a thin thread of reality.

But when the thread snaps, what shall he do to escape the hold that darkness has on him?

* * *

Muffled chimes and harsh vibrations slowly pulled him from slumber's grasp. Blindly, he reached under his pillow and desperately tried to find his cell phone. He groaned loudly as he turned on his back and, with a flick of his thumb, silenced the alarm for a few more minutes.

Sighing, he rubbed his eyes as if it would get rid of the wariness in them. The five minute snooze seemingly zoomed by and with a curse, he turned off the alarm. Yawning, he sat up and ran a hand through his heavily disheveled hair, the shoulder-length strands knotted tightly.

He slowly turned and allowed his legs to dangle from the edge of his cot, the space barely any bigger than a coffin's. Leaning down, he opened a drawer between the top and bottom cot and pulled out a pair of thin black glasses. He blinked owlishly as his blurry world turned sharp.

Faintly, he could hear the soft snores of Tyler in the cot across from him and Zach - who was always a restless sleeper - shuffling about beneath him. He shook his head and plopped down onto the hardwood floor. He only had about twenty minutes until Tyler's alarm would blare so he gathered his clothing and shuffled to the bathroom down the small hall.

A quick shower and shave was all he could do before he heard Tyler's loud, obnoxious wailing alarm go off. He rolled his eyes and toweled off his face, frowning when he saw a nik well up with blood on his right cheek. "You done in there yet?" came Tyler's voice from the other side of the door.

"Just a minute," he answered as he quickly pulled on his black jeans and t-shirt, his bright red vest in his hand when he opened the door, "All yours."

Tyler smiled, the man's hazel eyes still slightly glazed from sleep, "Good morning to you too Chris, I slept well thank you for asking."

Chris chuckled and patted Tyler on the cheek, grimacing when he felt the sharp stubble hit his palm, "You need to shave,"

Tyler's smile turned into a lecherous grin as he leaned in, "Sure you just don't want some beard burn, dear?" he taunted, "I happen to think I look dashing with facial hair."

Chris laughed, "And I think you've been hanging around Zach too long when you start using words like "dashing.""

Tyler raised an eyebrow, "You saying I can't use words like dashing?"

Chris opened his mouth but chose to merely shake his hand. "Get in the shower before Sky wakes up, will you? I don't want to listen to her rant for an hour today." he muttered, kneading his forehead.

Tyler frowned, "Bad night?"

"Better than most," Chris answered before lightly pecking Tyler's cheek, "Shower and a shave, now."

"Aye, aye captain." Tyler said with a feigned salute before sliding into the vacant bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

Chris sighed and made his way into the kitchenette area. It only had a handful of counters and cabinets. Their stove had two burners on it and their microwave could barely hold a bag of popcorn. Yawning, he flicked on the coffee maker and plopped down into the booth. He placed his elbows on the dining table, his morning energy already evaporating.

With a bit of twisting, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and began to go through the hoard of messages that were stashed in his inbox. Besides the usual spam that managed to get past his spam folder, he robotically responded to inquiries about tour dates and merchandise. He sent a few ideas to Michelle, the head of the merchandise area, about some t-shirt designs that would hopefully see themselves in the band's store soon enough. By time he sent the last email, the coffee pot was full and another alarm was going off. Sighing, Chris headed over to the counter and started to pour his and Tyler's mugs of coffee before starting another pot for the other two members.

"Tyler, get out of the shower!"

Chris shook his head when he heard Skylar pound her fist into the thin bathroom door. He heard Tyler muffled response which earned a loud huff from the lone woman in the band. A few seconds later, a damp Tyler shuffled out of the bathroom, wincing when Skylar smack his bare back with her towel. "I warned you," Chris said with a shrug as Tyler attempted to slide into his tight black jeans.

"She didn't need to smack me," mumbled Tyler, rubbing the site of impact before he pulled on a plain white t-shirt.

"Maybe she thinks that you will learn to get out of the shower in a reasonable time if she uses some negative reinforcement." Chris responded with a smirk, settling back into the booth with his mug of coffee.

Tyler frowned but quickly brightened when he saw the cup of coffee waiting for him. "Oh sweet heaven, how I love thee."

Chris glanced up at his coffee with a raised eyebrow, "Should I be jealous?."

Chuckling, Tyler slid into the booth beside Chris, his arm resting comfortably around Chris's shoulders. "Aw, love, you know there's no one but you in my life."

"If you two are going to talk like that, I'm gonna need to head back in the bathroom,"

"I'll probably have to join you," Chris answered, looking over his shoulder.

Skylar smiled and leaned against the dining table, her dark blue eyes narrowed on the half filled pot of coffee. "We need a faster coffee maker...or a bigger one."

"There's no room for a bigger one," Chris snorted, "Trust me, I looked."

"We don't need a microwave."

"We already eat enough fast food, the microwave is the only thing that will keep us from having diabetes by time we hit thirty." Chris mumbled.

"But we have you!" Skylar proclaimed, turning around and gesturing towards Chris with both her arms, "Chef Christopher Halliwell, master chef of the tour bus kitchen!"

Chris rolled his eyes, "Just drink your damn coffee. Is Zach up?"

"I dunno. Not my responsibility." answered Skylar, a large smile brightening up her face as she poured herself a large mug of coffee, "He should've set his alarm, I'm not his mother."

"Go wake him up, Sky. We have an interview in an hour." Chris said with a small sigh.

Skylar frowned but did as she was told. A few seconds later, a maniacal laugh could be heard as a high-pitched, masculine yell rang out. "She dumped water on him again," Tyler hummed, flipping through channels on the small television that was settled in the wall across from him.

"She's going to ruin the cot if she keeps doing that," Chris remarked as he deleted a handful of emails from his phone.

"Frank won't like that," Tyler muttered, still channel surfing.

Chris snorted at the mention of their bus driver, the middle-aged man was always grumpy no matter the time of day or situation. He typed out a quick correction to a t-shirt design as the voice of a local newsman came over from the television as Tyler finally settled on a channel.

Chris gave it a small glance, rolling his eyes when he saw another pile-up on the I-80. "We'll probably be late to Sacramento now," he muttered.

"Frank should be able to maneuver around it," Tyler said.

"Oh, that looks like a nasty accident," Skylar said, her lip curling upward as she hissed when the camera zoomed into a smashed pick-up truck.

"Bloody Hell, Sky," Zack entered the living area, his dark blond hair soaked and a scowl on his face, "I had my mobile under my damn pillow, you nutcase."

"Behave you two," Chris said, his eyes on the television as the newscaster started to ramble off the latest news about the accident, "Sky, stop spilling water on him. Zack, stop waking up late." he added absentmindedly.

"Doesn't that truck look familiar?" Tyler whispered to Chris.

Chris nodded numbly. The bright red and model of the truck struck a chord in Chris's mind. "I need to put my contacts in, move." Chris pushed against Tyler's shoulder, forcing the red-headed man to move.

He left the bathroom door open as he pulled his contact case out of the small cabinet above the sink. Once they were in, he slowly lined his sage green eyes with eye liner, the black khol making his eyes pop out even more than usual. Leaning back, Chris scowled at his reflection. Shoulder length black hair framed his face. He could see the high cheekbones and thin nose he inherited from his mother, along with the eyes and lips of his father. A perfect blend, his family use to say, of both parents. Between the thick strands hair, Chris could see the bright silver of the hoops in his ears, along with the lone one in his right eyebrow.

He reached up to brush aside some of his longer bangs, his wrist tattoo flashing briefly in the mirror as he did. "Chris!"

Hearing Tyler shout his name, Chris rushed to the living room. Tyler stood, his hazel eyes wide in shock as they turned towards Chris. "...Anderson has been shuttled off to the hospital for further treatment. His prognosis is unknown at this time, but condition was critical when he did leave. Dylan Anderson's father, Derek Anderson, age 54, died at the scene."

Chris blinked in shock, his heart clenching. Memories of a life nearly forgotten flashed in his mind. A kind man, a Godfather that was more like another uncle, with a large smile and a helpful composure was gone. Burdened with raising a half-demonic son, Derek never blinked an eye at the magical world and welcomed it. Once his son started to show magical powers, he came back to San Francisco and raised Dylan beside Wyatt, and shortly after, Chris. Chris grew up thinking he had two older brothers, no matter than Dylan was actually his Godbrother. And now, in a matter of seconds, he lost his Godfather and could still possibly lose Dylan. All before he could repent his mistakes and see them once more.

"-ris? Chris?"

Chris looked at Tyler, the man gently holding onto Chris's upper arms. Concern hazel eyes looked into his own green ones. From over Tyler's shoulder, he could see Zach and Skylar looking at him with worry and confusion. "Chris?"

Chris's attention snapped back towards Tyler. Tyler sighed, it long and filled with pain. "Chris, we should-"

"No."

"Chris, you have to." Tyler pressed, his hands squeezing Chris's arms, "Uncle Derek's dead. Dylan is injured, possibly dying."

Chris clenched his eyes shut, trying to drown out the words. "Ty, I can't. The others-"

"Will be there, yes." Tyler finished, "But, what if Dylan does pass on, what about Wyatt? He would-"

"Go crazy. But I'm pretty sure his missing brother could do shit about that."

"Bullshit, and you know it." Tyler said softly, "You were the one that kept Wyatt grounded in his moments of weakness. You know how much meaning you have to that blockhead," Tyler smiled sadly, his hands cupping Chris's face, "Its time to go back, Chris. Derek deserves that much at least."

Chris focused his eyes on Tyler, his mind whirling at a thought a second. Scenarios kept flowing through his head, both good and bad. To go back to San Francisco meant going back to a family he left five years ago. Questions would inevitably fly up and he would eventually be beaten down to answer them. His answers would cause even more problems.

But his Uncle Derek was dead, and he deserve his Godson to be at his funeral. Chris knew he should give him that much. He also didn't want to think of the turmoil that his family was going through at this sudden death, and Dylan was now an orphan at the young age of 23. The Halliwells would be all that Dylan would have left.

"Sky," Chris said softly, "Call Pete, tell him that I had a family emergency resutling in a member's death and that we need to reschedule all concerts and pre-determined interviews and such for the next two weeks. Go to Sacramento and park there. If you two wish to go home, go ahead. I-I don't know how long this side trip is going to take. I'll call you both when I got everything figured out," Chris determined, "If anything comes up, call either Tyler or me, tell the same to Pete, okay?"

Skylar nodded, "Of course, honey. Zach and I will hold down the fort here."

"Thank you," Chris said before turning around and heading towards the bunks.

Zach frowned, "His Godfather, aye?"

"More like an uncle, actually," Tyler softly corrected, "The two were close, same with Dylan, Chris's Godbrother. I thought Dylan was Chris's second older brother until Chris told me otherwise when I was six." Tyler chuckled weakly, "The mayhem we got into."

Skylar gently clasped Tyler's shoulder, "Take care of yourself and Chris. Don't worry about Pariah, Zach and I will take care of everything."

"You know how Chris is," Tyler snorted, "He'll still be poking his nose into everything no matter what. I'm positive there won't be much to worry about for you two. Just head home and see your families. I'm sure they miss you after being on tour for five months."

"We'll see," Skylar said with a shrug, "Now go pack, the sooner both of you are on the road the better. Call us if you need anything."

Tyler smiled, "Thanks Sky."

* * *

They didn't arrive in San Francisco until the sun began to sink in the sky. The trip was nearly silent, Chris curled up in the passenger seat as Tyler drove. Once they arrived in Sacramento on the tour bus, Chris and Tyler jumped into a rental car and left. Tyler pulled into the General Hospital parking lot. Turning off the car, neither man budged from their seats.

Chris looked at the hospital with apprehension. Inside housed his family. Family he hasn't seen since was damaged, messed-up, seventeen-year-old. Within the past five years, so much has changed for him. He cleaned up, gained a new identity, and found himself starting to heal after years of pain and agony.

"I'll be with you every step of the way,"

Chris looked at Tyler. The lone link to his previous life, Tyler was the only thing Chris treasured and prayed he never lost. Years they've been together, since he stumbled upon the man as a toddler at a park that his mother brought him and Wyatt to often. Wyatt always had Dylan, the two were bonded before Chris even entered the world. Tyler was solely Chris's. Even with a muddled family life and an even more muddled heritage, Tyler was the literally the ying to Chris's yang. When he met the small half-demon child when he was barely two, Chris - even with his power of premonition - couldn't foresee the impact that Tyler would have on his life.

Chris reached and squeezed Tyler's hand. "Thank you," he said before he finally climbed out of the car.

The two approached the hospital with their faces shadowed by sweater hoods and sunglasses. They paid no attention to the lack of sunlight or chill. Incognito was the only way to make this trip and they were going to remain that way as long as they could.

They walked into the crowded hospital and headed straight to the information desk. The nurse, a middle-aged woman, greeted them with false politeness, her smile strained and tired.

"We're here to see Dylan Anderson," Tyler stated.

The nurse raised an eyebrow, "May I ask who is asking to see him?"

"Christopher Halliwell and Tyler Larson," Chris answered, "I'm sure my family is already here. Piper Halliwell and Leo Wyatt are my parents." he added.

The nurse's face lightened up as she nodded, "Yes. They're in a private waiting room on the third floor, room 3120. Do you want someone to show you the way?"

Chris shook his head, "We'll find it, thank you."

* * *

Room 3120's door was plain and thin. Chris could hear the muffled chatter of his family behind it, and fear gripped him. He flinched when he heard his mother yell about something, her voice loud but distorted by the walls. "Now or never," Tyler said.

Chris sent him a small glare before letting out a deep breath. With a shaky hand, he grasped the cold silver handle and turned it. He could hear the conversations die a few seconds shy of him pushing the door open. He stood in the threshold, his breathing stopping as he looked over his family. Everyone was there, his two aunts and uncles, his handful of cousins, and most importantly, his mother, father and brother.

A sharp inhale made his head snap towards the right. His mother was slowly standing, her legs quivering as they tried to hold her weight. She took a few steps forward as tears began to tumble down her already mascara smeared cheeks. Her broken demeanor made Chris's heart break. His mother was always a strong woman, no matter the circumstance. But even a death in a family that seen it all is enough to make her fall.

Meeting her halfway, Chris wrapped his arms around his mother, taking in the soft scent of sweet pea and sugar that he always associated with her once more. Unwillingly, tears sprung up in his eyes as he cradled her close. His mother leaned back, her brown eyes still shining as she reached up to cup his face. "My baby," she whispered, "My precious baby."

Chris chuckled weakly. Even at the age of 22, his mother still called him "her baby". He gently took her hands into his own as a few tears managed to fall from his eyes, "Yes mom, your baby. I'm home, Mom. I'm home."

His mother sniffled. He managed a small smile hoping to comfort her.

The sharp stinging pain of his mother's slap was enough for it to fall.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

_Ambulans in profundum inferni, iuxta te est utilis ad daemonem_

Chris could feel the right side of his face quickly flush as the sharp sting radiated from his cheek. His chest tightened and the coil of anxiety in his stomach clench. With a shaky hand, he touched the heated skin and winced. Behind him, he heard a faint, deep growl. With his free hand, Chris quickly latched onto Tyler's wrist, tightening its hold to the point of pain. "Ty, I'm fine. Calm down." he whispered.

He could feel Tyler standing right behind him, the man's heat seeping into Chris's back. Chris took a deep breath and looked up at his mother. The woman stood, her shoulders quivering and her hands shaking as her dark brown eyes glistened with tears and anger stared back him. "Mom-"

"You left," Piper practically spat, "You left five years ago. No note. No warning. We thought you were dead!" she screamed.

Chris flinched at his mother's loud tone, his eyes squeezing shut. It took a few minutes for Chris to re-open them, "I'm sorry." he said softly.

"You're sorry?!" echoed Piper, "That's all you have to say for yourself?"

"Piper,"

Chris couldn't stop the sharp stab of fear from hearing the voice. It was soft, barely heard over the harsh breathing of Piper's. Chris forced his body to stand straight, his shoulders squared, as he leveled his green gaze on his father. The man stood like he had before, taller than Chris and a sense of leadership that always seemed to linger around the ex-Elder. The emotion in his father's eyes made Chris's stomach churn. They, like his mother's, was wet with tears and his face had a pure, unadulterated relief expression on it. Leo stumbled closer before bring Chris close. Chris stood in his father's embrace, dazed and confused. His body tensed automatically, waiting for the joke to be over and for the pain to start.

Leo leaned back and Chris could feel his father's eyes analyzing him. A small frown appeared on Leo's face before he sighed. "I'm glad you're back, son."

Chris blinked but said nothing. Leo gave him one last smile before stepping away. In a flurry of motions, Chris found himself passed from family member to family member. His Uncles and Aunts gave him tight hugs, some of them leaving him dampness on his shoulder. His cousins all bombarded him at once, the two teenagers standing to his shoulders, while the youngest - a set of eight-year-old twins- came to his stomach. Chris couldn't help but smile as he felt the warmth and love from his cousins, the four girls more like sisters to him than mere distant family. He remember fondly of times where he had to watch the four of them while Wyatt and the others were busy with work or demon hunting. Those times were the few in Chris's childhood that made him smile.

Once they let Chris go, the girls ran to their parents and Chris looked around for his brother. The man stood aside, a dark, cold look in his eyes as he looked at Chris. The sense of betrayal and hurt hung in the air between them and Chris couldn't find a reason to blame his brother for feeling like that. Wyatt shook his head and looked away. Chris let out a deep breath and knew that it would take time for Wyatt to welcome him back. "How's Dylan?" Chris asked.

"He has a fractured ankle and some other broken bones." Piper said through a sniffle, "One of his broken ribs punctured his lung. They say he should be fine; but, that they wouldn't truly know until they went in."

Chris nodded, running a hand through his hair. "How did you find out?" Phoebe asked, one of her twins - Payton - nestled on her lap.

"The news," Chris said, "We were on our way to Sacramento when we heard about the accident."

"What in Sacramento?"

Chris looked at his Aunt Paige, "Work."

Her husband snorted, "Well, that was detailed."

Chris chuckled and smiled at Henry. "Who's your friend? He looks familiar."

"Tyler Larson," Tyler stepped forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Chris, "I was Chris's friend-"

"Since he was a toddler." Piper finished, a frown on her lips, "Was it a plan then? You two running away together for some idiotic reason?"

"Don't blame Tyler for what I did, Mom." Chris quickly said, "I ran away by myself. Tyler stumbled upon me a few months later. He was just as surprised as everyone else."

Tyler let out a long breath, "I had no advance notice on what Chris had planned to do. I swear."

"So why did you do it?" Wyatt suddenly asked from his corner, "Why did you ditch your family?"

"I didn't ditch my family," Chris hissed, his eyes flashing in anger.

"Boys," Leo's sharp voice broke the growing altercation before it had a chance to get to high, "Later. Right now, our focus should be on Dylan."

"But Dad-"

"Later, Wyatt."

Wyatt frowned at his father but deflated. Chris bared a glance at Tyler, the red-headed man was on edge. "I'm thirsty," Chris said, "Does anybody want anything to drink?"

Getting his orders, Chris tugged on Tyler's jacket sleeve. "Ty and I will be back in a few," Chris said before leading Tyler out of the room, both of them letting out a sigh of relief once the door clicked shut, "Do you have-"

Without any more prompting, Tyler pulled a small flat container. With a small amount of pressure, the lid popped open and Tyler took a small white pill from the cluster. "Here."

Chris swallowed the pill dry before starting to walk down the hallway. His mind was whirling a thought a second. From his mother's slap to his father's surprising hug and welcoming nature, Chris didn't know what to make of his returning. By time he made it to the vending machine, his hand was shaking as he tried to push a dollar bill into the slot. A hand, firm and comforting, wrapped around his.

Warmth blossomed behind him and he couldn't help but lean back into it. Tyler's hand pushed his down and Chris turned. His eyes flickered shut as Tyler's knuckles caressed his stinging cheek. "Are you okay?"

Chris chuckled but nodded. "You need to watch yourself."

Tyler smirked, leaning down to press a kiss onto the injured skin, "I'll try."

Opening his eyes, Chris ran a hand through the shaggy, bright dyed red hair, "I don't need my parents to ask where I'm hiding the dog every time I managed to get injured."

Tyler looked up at Chris from his resting spot on Chris's shoulder, "Woof?"

"Smartass." Chris said, gently shoving Tyler away, "You know what I mean. They don't know about your heritage."

"Your family doesn't know about a lot of things," Tyler remarked.

Chris sighed, his hand coming up to knead his forehead, "I know. Something that will no doubt be rectified during this adventure."

"You'll be fine," Tyler reassured, "I'll be here every step of the way."

Chris chuckled, "Yes, yes. I know. Now, can I have my hand back so we can get these sodas before my family thinks I ran off again?"

Tyler chuckled but accepted the cans of soda as they were handed to him. A couple minutes of later, they made their way back to the personal waiting room with their arms full of soda. Chris opened the door with his elbow, an unnatural hush falling over his family inside as soon as he did. Chris frowned but made no comment. It was easier to stay quiet and ignore it than battle it. He passed out the few sodas to his cousins, the girls gleefully opening and gulping them down. Once all the cans were distributed, both he and Tyler drifted over to a corner. Tyler leaned against the wall and looked out the window. It was nighttime with the San Francisco skyline their backdrop. Chris took a sip of his cola, his own eyes drifting towards the window as well, his body instinctually leaning towards Tyler's.

"So, when did you start wearing nail polish?"

The sudden question from his Aunt Paige made Chris jump. "What?"

"Nails. Black. Why?" Paige asked, a smirk on her lips.

Tyler chuckled quietly but was quickly silenced by Chris's glare. Clearing his throat, Tyler looked away, a few stray laughs still coming through. "What is so funny?" Chris finally snapped.

Tyler shook his head and waved his hands. "Nothing."

Turning to face Tyler fully, Chris crossed his arms, "And you're a shit liar."

"It's just….they don't know and I find that hard to believe. Especially taking into consideration Samantha's music style." Tyler said, shrugging.

"My music style?" Samantha -Paige's lone child- inquired, her russet brown eyes wide, "What does my music style have to do with anything?"

Chris sighed and lightly smacked Tyler's shoulder, the man in a fit of chuckles, "Way to go, you damn asshole."

"Hey! It was bound to come out eventually." Tyler said still laughing.

"Yeah, but not within the first thirty minutes of us being here!" Chris responded.

Tyler snorted, "I'm surprised they didn't realize it once you walked through the door."

"I don't have the makeup and jewelry on, or the usual clothing." Chris mumbled, "Which I did for a reason, Ty."

"And then they would've gotten mad that you hid something," Tyler responded, shrugging, "Either way, rock and hard place."

Chris threw his hands up in the air in defeat. "Would anyone like to tell us what is going on?" Piper huffed.

With a sigh, Chris dug into his back pocket and withdrew his cell phone. A few seconds later, he brought up an article and walked over to Samantha. "Does Pariah sound familiar to you?"

Samantha blinked before nodding, "I have their music on my playlists. Why?"

"Do they look familiar?" Chris asked, showing her his phone screen.

"Yeah, that's Damon and Jayden. What do they have to do with anything?" Samantha asked, her brows furrowing as she looked up at Chris.

Chris looked over his shoulder at Tyler, "Do we really look that different?"

"The power of makeup and piercings. Show them your forearm?"

Chris sighed and slid the phone into his back pocket. Samantha watched in confusion as Chris rolled up his right sleeve. Tattooed on his right wrist was the Halliwell family symbol - the triquetra - with two dragons clutching either side of it. The dragons', one pitch blank, the other a bright fiery red, tails were coiled together to form a tip at the base of Chris's palm. The tattoo covered most of Chris's forearm. Samantha looked at the tattoo, her finger tracing the dragon before glancing up at her cousin. "You're Damon Payne."

Chris nodded, "And Tyler is Jayden Luican."

Samantha stood up, "You're...You're-"

"Sam?" Paige raised an eyebrow, "Honey, would be wonderful if you could fill in some blanks here."

"They're the vocalist and bassist of Pariah!" she shouted, her eyes wide.

Chris quickly hushed his cousin, "That is news that we don't really want to get out, Sam."

"But-"

"But nothing," Chris stated, "We really don't need a hoard of fangirls coming and stalking us."

Samantha glanced between her cousin and Tyler, "Then that means that you two are-"

"Together? Yes." Chris said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"So wait," Piper stood slowly, her fists clenched, "You went and started a band? And-And-"

Leo grasped his wife's hand in an attempt to calm her, "How did you think that you could try to keep this from us?" he asked.

Chris sighed, "Because I knew you all would respond like this."

"Like what, Chris?" Wyatt shouted, "What part of 'we thought you were dead' don't you comprehend?"

Chris let out a deep breath, "I understand it well, Wyatt, and I'm sorry that I put you all through that."

"Guys," Henry stood, "Now, while we are all shocked at Chris's stardom, we have a man in surgery right now fighting for his life."

"Uncle Henry has a point," Chris responded, "Tonight should be about Dylan and Uncle Derek. Not about me."

"That would be just wonderful for you wouldn't it?" Wyatt snorted.

Chris grit his teeth, "Damn it, Wyatt-"

"Enough!" Phoebe stood, her arms spread, "All of you, separate corners. You guys are killing me with your emotions. I have a headache the size of Texas now."

Chris deflated, "Sorry, Aunt Phoebe."

"Oh honey," Phoebe stepped close to her nephew, "I can feel the guilt blanketing over you. Everything will work out, trust me."

Chris chuckled as Phoebe took his face between her hands, "Yes Auntie."

"But don't be foolish enough to think that we're just gonna let you skirt by," Phoebe said with a smile, "Once Dylan is out of the hospital, we are all going to sit down and have a nice long talk."

"Oh fun," Chris groaned.

"And I knew you and your...friend...were together the moment you walked into the door." she stage-whispered.

Chris nodded, "And this is why I could never hide anything from you. God help your children."

Phoebe grinned and pecked Chris's cheek. She settled back down beside her husband, her hand automatically intertwining with Coop's. Chris sighed at the ease that they did so. Chris drifted back towards Tyler. Pulling his phone out, he answered Skylar's and Zach's text messages that he noticed appeared when he showed Samantha the article earlier.

"Any news from Virgin about our impromptu vacation?" Tyler inquired before taking a sip of Chris's soda.

Chris shook his head, "i just hope they don't disclose the full reason as to why we had to cancel those concerts….and don't drink all of my soda."

Tyler smirked and took another sip before relinquishing it back to Chris. "How long have you two been together?" Piper asked, softly.

Chris glanced at his mother, "Almost four years now."

Piper nodded, "Didn't know you were gay."

"Technically bisexual; but, yeah. Never really came out did I?" Chris chuckled, "Hey mom?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm bisexual."

Piper chuckled, "See you're still a smartass."

"Oh you know that will never change, Mom."

"I can assure that he will always be that way," Tyler peeped in.

Chris sent a small glare towards Tyler, "No one asked you."

Tyler smiled, "First amendment."

Chris shook his head and leaned back against the wall, "And I get called the smartass."

Tyler went to say something but a sharp trio of knocks stopped him. The door squeaked open as a man in dark green scrubs entered the room. A blue mesh mask hung from his neck and his hair was hidden by a light blue cap. "Halliwell family?"

Piper stood, "How's Dylan?"

"He made it through the surgery fine. We had to put metal rods into femur to bind the two broken pieces together. He'll be put in a case and will have to be for the next 6 to 8 weeks before he can start physical therapy; but I foresee no serious permanent issues with the leg. Furthermore, the internal bleeding wasn't as bad as we thought it would be and was fixed with some easy remedies. He is currently in recovery and will be moved down to ICU in a few hours, and should be able to go home in a few days."

Piper sniffled, "Thank you, doctor."

The doctor nodded, "It was no problem. I'm sorry to say that Dylan won't be up for visitors until tomorrow."

Piper frowned but nodded. She stood up and thanked the doctor once more before he left. Chris sighed and pushed off from the wall. "What time is visiting hours?"

"They start at 8." Paige answered.

"We'll meet you here then," Chris said.

"Wait, what?" Piper asked, looking at her son, "What do you mean, "you'll meet us here." ?"

Chris blinked before saying slowly, "That Ty and I are going to get a hotel and then meet you here at 8."

"No, no no," Piper shook her head, "You two will come to the manor. You two will sleep at the manor. And then, we'll all come to the hospital together."

"Mom, really. It will be fine. Ty and I will -"

"go to the manor," Piper finished.

"I don't think you're gonna make her budge, love." Tyler whispered.

"I know, that's the sad part." Chris grumbled, "Where would we sleep?"

"Your room is still set up." Piper said, "Tyler can sleep in the living room."

Chris chuckled, "Mom. Um, I'm twenty-two. Not, thirteen. Furthermore, getting intimate in my childhood bedroom? Not on my to-do list."

Piper rolled her eyes, "Will you just come home?"

"Not like I have much of a choice." Chris muttered, "Yes, Mom."

"Thank you," Piper whispered, "Come on, let's go. We'll come back in the morning."

Chris let out a deep breath as his family shuffled out. "And the night of Hell begins."

Tyler smiled and pressed his lips to Chris's temple, "And your demon is here to lead you through the flames."

* * *

"Wow, they really didn't change anything," Chris whispered as he and Tyler walked into his old bedroom.

Dark blue paint still covered walls that were decorated with awards and pictures. Chris took a step forward and took a room that he hasn't seen in five years. "I remember this day,"

Chris turned and looked at Tyler. He took down a framed picture, a fond smile on his face. Chris made his way and chuckled when he saw the photo. "It was in eighth grade. Our orchestra went to nationals and won."

"You were so shocked when they gave you the violin award," Tyler said, "Best violinist there. The judges gushed about you."

Chris chuckled, taking in the bright smile on his face in the picture. "I look so overjoyed."

Tyler frowned, "It was right in front of me."

Chris shook his head and gently took the photo away from Tyler. "Just stop, Ty. I've bashed it in your head enough. Now, can we please go to bed?"

Tyler nodded. "Did your mom ever say what they're going to do with Uncle Derek's body?"

"It, uh, being sent to the funeral home. They're going to hold off on it until Dylan can go." Chris sank down onto the bed, his head cradled in his hands, "He's gone. I...I can't believe he's gone."

Tyler sat beside Chris, "At least he didn't suffer."

Chris nodded, "I know. It's just...it hasn't set in."

"I don't think it has for anybody," Tyler responded, "Everyone is focused on Dylan right now."

Chris shook his head, "I don't know anymore. Everything is…"

"Going batshit crazy?" Tyler said with a chuckle, "Everything will work out."

"Pretty sure the whole seeing the future thing is my power." Chris said with a small smile, "Bed?"

Tyler smiled, "Bed."

* * *

Chris laid in bed, Tyler's arms wrapped around him, avoiding getting out it until the last possible second. He knew once he stepped foot outside of his bedroom, he was going to be bombarded with questions. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on the heartbeat beneath his ear and not on the memories that this room housed. "You okay?"

Chris jerked. Tyler chuckled, his fingertips ghosting over the knobs of Chris's spine. "Sorry."

"Didn't know you were awake."

"You had a few last night."

Chris sat up, "It's this damn room."

Tyler frowned. He gently kissed Chris's shoulder then neck before wrapping his arms around Chris's waist. "Please, if you can avoid it, don't be alone with him."

"He's going to try to get me alone," Chris whispered.

"If you come back with one bruise…" Tyler sighed, his forehead falling to Chris's shoulder, "I could barely hold back when your mother slapped you, and I knew she had a reason to slap you. But your father…"

"I know," Chris said softly, "But, I don't need them freaking out that I'm with a half-demon let alone with all the other shit that is going on right now."

"Do you think your family is going to react that badly? I mean, I've been your friend since we were in diapers."

"My family hears "demon" and freaks out." Chris reached up and rubbed his eyes, "And my anxiety is already at it's peak. I don't need to defend our relationship and you as well."

"I'll be on my best behavior." vowed Tyler.

Chris twisted his head and smiled. Reaching up, he patted the top of Tyler's head, "Good puppy."

"Woof. Woof."


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

_Quandoque vero ira ostendere possit  
_

Morning brought along a sense of discord and anxiety. As he got dressed, Chris could hear his family chattering below him in the kitchen. A cold feeling of dread spread upon him like a thick blanket. He could already foresee the myriad of questions that would inevitably be flung at him. He pulled on his black t-shirt, ornate, silver sprawl work decorating the lower right side of it. Hearing the door open, Chris whirled around. Tyler stood in the threshold, his hands held up in a defensive position. "Whoa, you okay?"

Chris let out a shaky breath of relief, "I want to get the hell out of here." he said, hopping up and down as he forced on a pair of taut pants.

Tyler smiled sadly, "We be back in the lovely, cramped, tour bus soon enough. Anything from Virgin or Sky?"

"Sky sent a text saying everything was okay on that front. they're staying in Sacramento for the time being." Chris answered, "and I know the asshole, he'll call today."

"Fun," Tyler said with fake glee as he snatched a t-shirt from the suitcase, "If you don't go down there, she'll drag you out by your hair."

Chris grimaced, "I know, so hurry up and get dressed so you can bear the brunt of the attack like the loving boyfriend you are."

Tyler barked out a laugh, "They care about you, not your boyfriend, dear."

"Ah, but you are my boyfriend, so at least Aunt Phoebe will interrogate you. She's always been the nosy aunt."

Tyler smiled, "Sounds like fun," with a smirk, he bowed deeply and extended an arm, "Shall we depart, my love?"

Chris rolled his eyes and pushed Tyler, the man stumbling and laughing. "You're an ass." Chris said, over his shoulder before trotting down the stairs.

His happy mood quickly evaporated once he face face-to-face with the swinging white door of the kitchen. He could hear his mother's voice clear as day as she reprimanded Wyatt for snatching another pancake. "Everything will be okay," Tyler whispered, his hand coming to rest on Chris's hip, "Just go in before we get smack in the face by the door."

Chris let out a shaky breath before pushing the door open. Once again, the room fell into the snapped hush. Only his immediate family was in the kitchen luckily. "Morning," Chris said, softly.

"Good morning," Piper responded, a hint of faux happiness in her tone, "How did you two sleep?"

"Fine," Chris answered.

"Well, don't just stand there," Piper said, huffing, "Coffee's over there. Pancakes over there. Eat."

Chris headed towards the coffee, quickly grabbing two mugs and poured them. He added two spoonfuls of sugar and a splash of milk into one while the other stayed black. He placed the diluted one in front of Tyler while he kept the other. Tyler plopped a plate of pancakes on the island, a puddle of maple syrup covering the top of the pile. Chris sat down after fishing his phone from his pocket, taking a sip of coffee as soon as he could. "I'm not hungry, you eat first. I'll eat the leftovers."

Tyler snorted but began nibbling while Chris continued to answer emails. If it wasn't for his family and the different setting, Chris could imagine he was in the tour bus. The sharp sound of Leo clearing his throat broke the calm thought. Chris lifted his eyes from his phone to meet the calculated gazes of his parents. He could feel Wyatt's gaze on him from his right.

Piper took a deep breath, "Chris, we don't want to...overwhelm you; but, we also feel like we are entitled to some answers."

Chris closed his eyes and placed his phone onto the island, "What do you want to know?"

"Why did you leave?"

Chris's eyes flickered towards Leo before settling back on Piper. "I had to...get away. Nothing against you. I was going through a bad time and I had to leave to get away from it."

"What was going on?" Leo asked.

"I-I don't want to say." Chris muttered, his fingers coming up and rubbing his eyes, "Its something that I had to get away from, that's all you need to know."

"That's it?" Piper stated, "Was it drugs? Something worse?"

"Mom, just-just stop," Chris said, lifting his hands, "Not right now. There are some things I need to figure out, then I'll speak to you about it."

Piper opened her mouth but closed, a frustrated sigh escaping as she deflated, "Alright. Pariah, band thing."

"Tyler and I are members of Pariah, a fairly popular rock band," Chris answered, "We've been signed for the past four and half years. We were in the middle of our tour when we saw the accident."

"And you two are...together." Leo softly inquired.

"Yes." Chris said, his eyes narrowing on his father, "Is that a problem?"

"Are you two married?"

"No."

"How long have you two been together?

"Four and a half years." Chris answered, "Long story short, Tyler and I are together. We have been together for quite some time. We are going to continue to be together. The end."

Piper reached out and took Chris's hand into hers, "Oh honey, we're not attacking your relationship. We're just….shocked."

"They didn't know you were attracted to males until yesterday, Chris," Tyler said with a shrug.

Chris glared at Tyler from the corner of his eye, "You are not helping."

Tyler smiled, leaned forward to peck Chris's lips before pushing the half-eaten plate of pancakes towards Chris, "Eat."

"I hate you," Chris muttered before grabbing the fork.

Tyler chuckled and leaned back, sipping his coffee. Chris ate a few bites before his cell phone buzzed loudly. Quickly swallowing, Chris grabbed his phone. "Hello?" he greeted, his brows furrowed.

A sigh came from Chris as he slid out of the chair and headed for the dining room. Leaning against the table, Chris listened as Alan spoke feverishly into his ear. "I had a family emergency."

Wincing, Chris moved the phone to his other ear before speaking, "Alan, I had a family death. I had to go back to San Francisco. The funeral is in a few days. Tyler and I can return to the road the next day. Tell the venues that we'll reschedule. We had no choice. No argument, just go and do it, Alan." Chris hung up the phone with a shake of his head.

He re-entered the kitchen with a frown on his face. "Who was it?"

"Alan." Chris answered Tyler as he slid back into his seat, "He was raising a fuss."

"When isn't he?" snorted Tyler, "Our publicist." he verified for the others.

"And our liaison to the record company it seems like ninety percent of the time," Chris added through a mutter, "He says that the Seattle venue is raising a fuss."

"We'll reschedule towards the end of our tour, what's the problem?" Tyler said before popping another bite of pancake into his mouth.

"I don't know. I'll call them in a few hours and scream at them." Chris said, leaning back in his chair, "If worse comes to worse, we'll refund the tickets and that will be that. Virgin won't like the losses but we won't be able to make it to Seattle by tomorrow."

"Don't you have someone to do that for you? Like a manager or something?" Piper asked.

Chris raised his hand, "Vocalist and manager. Easier to do it yourself then to get someone else to do it for you."

Piper rolled her eyes and glanced at the clock on the wall. "We should probably go so we can go see Dylan right when we can."

Chris sighed and lifted his hand, palm up. "Keys. Wallet." he stated, clearly.

"Chris," Piper said, her eyes narrowing as the requested items appeared in her son's hand in a shower of orbs.

Chris merely shrugged and slid out of the seat. "Meet you at the hospital?"

"But-"

"Mom, we would all fit in the car." Chris said, rolling his eyes, "Ty and I will meet you at the hospital. Alright?"

Piper frowned but nodded. Chris held his head high and shoulders squared until he heard the door shut behind him. A sense of wariness settled in him and he longed to crawl back into bed and lay there until everything was done. "We better go, love."

Chris nodded at Tyler's urging and followed him to the car.

* * *

Chris leaned against the wall just outside of Dylan's hospital room. His arms were wrapped loosely around his thin waist and his head bowed. He felt Tyler's arm gently resting on his shoulders as the two waited for Piper to break the news of Derek's death to Dylan and Chris's reappearance. Dylan was always another brother in Chris's mind. Another Wyatt to watch over him and help guide him. Another family member to lie to and to hide from.

Hearing the door open, Chris's head snapped up. Phoebe stood in the threshold, "He's ready, honey."

Chris nodded and pushed off the wall. He entered the small, crowded room. Wyatt sat beside Dylan, a silent comforter as he watched Chris enter with an apathetic gaze. Piper cradled Dylan's hand, a sad smile on her face. The rest of the Halliwell family was scattered about in the room.

"Hey, still see you're a midget."

Chris chuckled, the tense air seemingly evaporating. "Not my fault I didn't get the giant gene."

Dylan smiled, his hazel eyes still wet with tears, "Well, do I get a hug or not?"

Gingerly, Chris wrapped his arms around Dylan, wary of his Godbrother's wounds. "I'm glad you're okay, Dylan."

"You too, brat." Dylan muttered, releasing Chris, "Where the hell have you been?"

"Around." Chris answered with a shrug.

"Around? That's all I get?" Dylan replied.

"He ran off to be a famous fucking singer." Wyatt snapped, "Ditched his family. Left them wondering to be a star."

Chris sighed, "That's not how it played out, Wyatt."

"Bullshit!" Wyatt stood, his blue eyes illuminated in fury, "You fucking left us, Chris!"

"I know that!" Chris growled, "I know that very fucking well, Wyatt. Thank you for telling me the obvious! Anything else you would like to add?"

"Boys," Piper rose to her feet, "Quiet down. You're in the hospital."

"No. Chris needs to realize what he did." Wyatt hissed.

"I know what I did, I don't need to be reminded of it."

"Obviously you don't give a shit about your family!" Wyatt slammed his hand down onto the cheap end table beside Dylan's bed, "You wandered off without a care in the world while you exposed all of us!"

"I put up barriers to hide myself from the demons. I know what I was doing, Wyatt."

"You also put up barriers to hide yourself from us!"

"For good reason!" Chris yelled, "I had my reasons, Wyatt. I had to leave for my own good and for the wellbeing of the family."

"The wellbeing of the family?" Wyatt chuckled, "Us thinking you were dead was for the wellbeing of the family? Just admit it, Chris. You didn't give a shit about us. You packed up. Went to L.A. to be some big time singer and said fuck you to us."

"You have no idea what I went through, Wyatt." Chris hissed, "Don't even try to assume what I went through while I was gone. So, shut the fuck up and sit down."

"No. Not until you tell us why you left. Was being a Halliwell too much for you? Could you not handle the pressure? Could you not handle the duty of being a witch? Hmm?"

"Wyatt, shut up."

"Wyatt, stop," Dylan said, reaching up and wrapping his hand around Wyatt's wrist.

"No! I won't stop until he opens his mouth and tells us why!"

Chris narrowed his eyes, "No."

"Why? Because it was immature for you dart away like some melodramatic child?"

"Watch what you're saying." Tyler said, stepping forward.

"What? What you going to do to us?" Wyatt said, raising an eyebrow towards Tyler, "You're a nobody. You were probably the one who thought of all of this. You were the one that tore up this family!"

"Don't you dare scream at him! This is between me and you." Chris shouted, "Tyler has nothing to do with this."

"Then why is he here?"

"You want to know the fucking truth so badly?" Chris snapped, "Your darling, father, the one you grovel and kissed ass to throughout our whole childhood was beating me nightly. Tyler, the man that you say tore apart this family, saved my fuckng life as I got drunk beyond belief and slit my wrist. Oh, and the topper?" Chris leaned close to Wyatt's shocked face, "I fucking sold my body to get my ass to L.A. Furthermore, I sold my body while we were in high school, all without you knowing. I slept with most of your fucking friends and got paid. So, congratulations, you have a fucked up whore of a brother. And that, Wyatt, is why I fucking left five and half years ago. You now know. Bet you feel very wonderful. Dylan, fell better. I'll see all of you at Uncle Derek's funeral." He said before turning on his heel and stomping out of the room.

Tyler looked at the family before his eyes settled on Leo. "Don't you dare say it didn't happen."

Leo took in a shaky breath, "I-I-I...no."

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," Tyler said towards Piper before he shifted his gaze towards Wyatt, "And don't you fucking talk to him until you figure out what you want to say. He didn't go through years of therapy for you to fuck it all up."

"Tyler-"

With his hand on the doorknob, Tyler look at Leo. "I, truly, don't….I wouldn't….he's my son."

Tyler snorted, "Yeah, fuck you too, Leo. Nice act." He snapped throwing open the door, ignoring the sob that broke out behind him.

* * *

**Thanks for all the reviews thus far! I'm glad to see a lot of Pariah fans coming back. I hope that this version lives up to your expectations.**


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